


first they kiss (then they bite soft)

by abusedtrademarkemoji



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, High School, Public Display of Affection, School Dances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21563329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abusedtrademarkemoji/pseuds/abusedtrademarkemoji
Summary: ned and betty might just be the nastiest kissers in the known public. peter and mj feel obligated to prove their hypothesis that a first kiss should look way better, conveniently they are the only willing participants for their own little experiment.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 14
Kudos: 107





	first they kiss (then they bite soft)

“Ugh, I can’t believe how gross they are.”

“We should just be happy for them, y’know.” He folds his arms over his chest, like he hasn’t even fully convinced himself of the fact.

“I can be happy and judgmental at the same time,” she panders. “It is almost synonymous for me at this point.”

Peter laughs, inching a smidge closer to her on the bleachers, but still maintaining a healthy distance apart. “C’mon, it’s not that bad,” Peter will defend Ned until oblivion. Well, it wasn’t that bad, but then Ned tilts his head slantways and is able to lodge his tongue further down Betty’s throat. “Okay, I revoke that statement. It really is that bad.” He unfolds his arms to scratch behind his ear. “Should we stop staring?”

“I can’t. It’s so gross, but I can’t.”

“Yeah, like a circus act.”

They both shudder.

“How do they do that to this song? Of all songs?” Michelle’s prudence has subsided into pure curiosity at this point, because her question stands. The song playing is the Shrek one, “Allstar”.

“You mean to say that "Allstar" isn’t the song you want to play as you walk down the aisle?” Peter leans forward so that his elbows are propped on his knees and his hands fiddle together across like a bridge of nerves. Michelle can’t help but picture her, Peter, weddings bells, and Shrek. It sucks. She loves it.

Michelle drops her fist on his shoulder like a hammer, a little too hard for most people, but like a feather to Spider-Man, “Get outta here.”

There is a minute of silence before MJ starts up again, “I just can’t help but think they’re doing it wrong.”

“I don’t know, they seem to be enjoying it.” He politely ignores the shine on the couple’s chins from a dangerous concoction of saliva and a disco ball.

“I just always pictured it to being, less—ugh, moist.” MJ realizes she might have revealed too much. “Not that I picture it, of course!”

Peter puffs out a waft of air. “Yeah, no, me neither,” he stumbles. They look at each other half a second too in sync and almost give themselves whiplash from looking away, conveniently both at the opposite exit doors of the gymnasium. MJ scratches at the green crushed velvet of her dress, making a satisfying _fffvvvvv fffvvvvv_ sound. Only MJ could pull off shoulder pads too, and unironically.

Something takes over her and maybe she supposes it’s a way of distraction from that minor glance that felt all too monumental to her, but she sticks her hand out accusingly, spouting a loud, “Eww!”

Peter snatches her hand into his hand, yanking her into his chest. “Stop!” He shouts, attempting to save his best friend from embarrassment. “What are you doing?”

“Lashing out according to my teenage angst,” she replies breathlessly, looking up into his eyes.

Peter forces himself to ignore her long eyelashes, and the splash of gold glitter that’s uncharacteristically smattered on her eyelids. “Don’t,” he says, unknowing that the proximity has made him whisper. He’s swimming in the glassy shine of her blue, pink, green, black eyes that twirl under the rented lights. Their breaths both smell like the Gatorade bottle of Rasberry Vodka and Crystal Light the four of them shared in the parking lot. So, sickly sweet.

Their apparent position creeps back into the other’s conscious within a single moment and they each snatch their hands away. Michelle snaps up straight again in what Peter could only describe as the best posture he’s ever seen from her. They both swallow up a deep gulp of air. Michelle is carefully inspecting her victim hand, pressing Peter to ask, “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.” And he genuinely is.

“Huh? No, it’s just- I thought I felt,” she exhales. “Never mind. Don’t worry about it, really.” She crosses her ankles in front of her and her back bends curved again like normal. Peter takes it as a cue that he really shouldn’t worry about, and things go back to how they always were.

“You’re hands are really cold. You should eat more legumes,” when he sees the unimpressed look on her face he attempts to backtrack, “Or something...uh...”

“Don’t mansplain anemia to me,” MJ’s voice is stern but her smile blooms into something that more-so resembles playfulness.

He chuckles, toeing at her converse with his waxy dress shoes. “I wouldn’t if I saw you eat anything other than Oreos and popcorn.”

“Ha-ha, Mr. Six Cups of Coffee a Day,” she tuts, “Like you can give advice here.”

“Hey, coffee is a bean, isn’t it?”

“Whatever.” MJ tilts her head, “How many songs has it been now?”

They started on a Beyoncé number and have somehow tumulted through all the decades—even the Macarena—and have landed on some strange compilation of TikTok songs. Even so, the TikTok songs and accompanying routines are the only second cringiest thing on the dance floor.

“At least eight, but no more than ten.”

“I’m holding you to that,” and the ‘healthy’ and platonic distance between the two have dissipated into nothing but a silver thread. Thighs are touching, Peter has confidently executed a classy hover hand just behind her so that he’s awkwardly stilted on the bleachers. It works though, because it tucks her a little into his shoulder. She doesn’t comment on it.

After a few moments of silence, Peter discloses, “To be honest, I always thought it would be better than that, or look better at least.”

“Oh, so now you agree.”

“I didn’t not agree before, I just, hmm…” He trails off. “Do you think everyone’s first time is this awkward?”

Michelle sputters, eyebrows climbing a ladder up her forehead. “ _First time_? Slow down there.”

“No! No, _no_ , that’s not-you know that’s not-kissing!” Peter stumbles over his words, like they were vines and overgrowth in the dark of night. “I meant kissing; you know I only meant kissing.”

“Right, yeah, I knew that.” She didn’t, but Peter thinks pretending is a better idea, anyway.

“At least, I think I would be better than that,” he boasts.

“Oh? And where’s the evidence for that? I expect a three-part thesis on my desk tomorrow morning.” She nudges his shoulder with his own. Peter gnaws on his lips, wondering where this is going, how bold he could possibly be. When MJ poises herself so that her sharp knees rests over his thighs, her head is inclined on his shoulder so that even a whisper might be measured as too loud, and she sinks back so that the hover hand is fully introduced to her hip, the calculation is finalized.

“I could hand it in right now,” and even though Michelle has situated herself expectantly, her eyes blow surprised when Peter tilts his head to the side to slot his lips against her own. At first, it’s shy, just an act of giving in to temptation. Best defined as stolen, but also tantamount with a debt repaid, they exchange something that feels mutual. It’s the first time either of them has ever properly felt well-matched, where the other person is as reciprocating and overwhelmed and god-forsakenly brilliant in both sentiment and sensation.

Eventually, their mouths meet like heaving rivers washing away stone, smooth and innate swells of all that is life’s necessity. Rhythm heals and hands tuck into hair, and Peter feels the sharp angles of the bench behind him pressing into his back as MJ is nearly mounted completely over him, but he's distracted from the affliction when MJ scrapes her teeth along his lips, sinking in lightly, but laving over it for antidote with a swift and exploratory lick. Her long lashes tickle at his face and blunt nails scratch soothingly while they rake through his hair and over his neck. He supports their weight with ease over one elbow, and his other arm cradles her evermore closer.

Once ardor falls victim to the need to breathe, they pull only a mere inch away, the unsteady rushes of air between their pants cooling the other’s cheeks.

“Hypothesis confirmed: We were right, and we are _much_ better than them.” MJ rests her forehead against his own. 

Suddenly too aware of the people around them and the wood pressed into his spine, Peter tells her, “I’m not fully convinced. I think we should take this experiment into the next phase. Perhaps there is an empty lab room where we can continue to our research—one with a long desk, for horizontal arrangements to better meet the stipulations of the clause, of course.”

“Okay, enough with the science talk.” She drags him up by both hands with her toes covering his, leaning freely back until he’s perfectly upright. They walk past curious peers a little too quickly to be thought of as casual, until they are properly running through the exit doors and down the halls, with MJ full charge in front with one hand behind her dragging Peter to keep up.

It dawns on the both of them that their first kiss was to the beat of “Tubthumbing”, by Chumbawumba, and as the years will pass them by, neither will ever consider another song to be any more romantic.

**Author's Note:**

> title from in my room by my boy frankie o (p.s. blond started playing right when i tagged this at the cafe i'm sittin in! fate wanted this fic uploaded lol)
> 
> also i normally post one-shots around the same time as i update wips, but has the spideychelle tag been hijacked or smth?? it is SO wack rn, for every legit fic there is like 7 barely related or sketchy fics. I HATE THIS. so have this maybe it will help idk
> 
> thanks friends!! see ya soon :)) somewhat related but: i'm hoping that bibiyd will be finished this winter break once i'm done w exams.


End file.
